


Gift From The Heart

by LadyMuzzMuzz



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, Post DMC5 Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/pseuds/LadyMuzzMuzz
Summary: It's Vergil's second Christmas back in the Human World, and the first full year as a father.  But what does a father, whose never been part of his son's life for a quarter century, give?
Comments: 22
Kudos: 90





	Gift From The Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to last year's Christmas fic, [To Catch the Man in Red](https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/21901486), although, both can be read as a standalone stories.

Vergil wished he hadn’t been so focussed on going through the stacks of magazines, trying to find the one he sought, or else he would have noticed his brother coming in. But in his quest to find the catalogue, it wasn’t until he heard a snickering that he realized Dante leaning against the door, had been watching him for quite some time.

“Yah know, if you’re looking to let off some steam, I keep those magazines in the bottom drawer of my desk. Just try not to wrinkle Sarah’s centerfold, she’s my favourite.”

He stared at his brother, confused for a moment, before it clicked at what Dante was speaking of, and he sighed angrily.   
“Don’t be crass, I’m not interested in your sexual peccadillos.”   
“You say that now, but you haven’t seen her, once you do, you’ll change your mind. There’s a reason her stage name is SSSarah.” He grinned as he strode past Vergil to see what he was looking for, picking up a motorcycle accessory catalogue.   
“Hmmm...doesn’t seem like your type of reading material, too many pictures, too few boring words.”

Vergil yanked it out of Dante’s hand. “What I am looking for, amongst this  _ fine,”  _ he paused, allowing the sarcasm to seep through, “collection of literature is the Annual Wish Book from the Pears Department store.”

“The Wish Book?” Dante looked confused, before he grinned, “Oh yeah! I remember us as kids fighting over it when it got delivered… good times.” he stared wistfully, momentarily lost in memory, before an uncharacteristic frown appeared on his face. “Crappy thing is, Pears went out of business about five years ago, so no more of those. I used to look forward to them so much, even when I couldn’t afford anything when I started Devil May Cry” He sighed, before shaking his head, “Besides, what do you want it for? Aside from nostalgia?”   
Vergil was reluctant to say. In truth he’d hoped to do this without help. Well, at least without help from any sentient being. But… seeing as his latest attempt has reached a dead end, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to ask his brother. (Besides, could Dante qualify as sentient?)

“Christmas…” he started, “is a month a way, and Nero,” he saw Dante’s grin melt into something resembling a small smile, “well, I am unable to think of something to get for him. This will be my first holiday season proper, as a father..” he paused. The mere idea that he had a living, breathing son still caught him off guard. “I wish to give him a suitable gift, something that MEANS more than just a present. But Nero seems to have everything he needs, and his wants are few, or he never speaks of them. I thought perhaps that looking at a catalogue would trigger an idea.”

“Why not ask him yourself?”

“Don’t be daft, little brother, the point is to surprise him, to come up with a thoughtful gift on my own.”

Dante rubbed his chin for a bit, before his eyes lit up. “How about a gift certificate to a restaurant!”   
“Dante, I swear if you say a pi-”   
“A pizza joint! He’ll love it!”

Vergil sighed. A year ago, he probably would have stabbed his brother for that, now, he was content to just glare at him.  _ I’m getting soft in my old age _ , he thought.

“Out of the question.”

“Well, it would be a good opportunity for you two to hang out.” Dante continued, shrugging his shoulders. “Besides, Nero would love anything you give him, you’re his dad! Even if you got him something lame... like socks.”

Vergil restrained a wince as his little brother patted him on the shoulder. He knew Dante meant well, but… he needed something more. Perhaps asking someone else might help, someone who was his son’s age…

As he created his portal to find them, he could hear his brother call out “If you’re thinking about a gift for ME… a gift certificate to Angelo’s would be nice….”   
  


* * *

“So, let me get this straight…” The smell of cigarettes was almost enough to make him retch, “you wanna ask ME what Nero wants for christmas?” Nicolletta flicked the butt out of the window as she drove in what could be cordially called an ‘insane’ manner. “How about twenty five years worth of child support?”    
Vergil winced, even if he didn’t want to admit it, the woman had a point. His ignorance of Nero’s existence for a quarter of a century wasn’t an excuse. There was nothing he could do or give would make up for all those years of abandonment. Still, he felt he HAD to get something special for Nero. Hence why he was asking the eccentric inventor. She knew him better as a person.

She must have seen through his stony exterior, because she punched him playfully on the arm, “I’m just joshing you, V. Don’t let it go to your head, but at least you’re trying. More than my daddy ever did. Your brother did me a favour when- HEY! I’M DRIVING HERE!”, she smashed the horn, yelled out the window at a fellow driver, and Vergil gripped his seat, as she swerved and barely missed a tiny little electrical car.

Once that little hair raising event had passed, she adjusted her glasses. “Well, Nero likes guns, fighting, music that even  _ I _ can’t get into (Vergil understood that, Nero’s taste in music was...eclectic to be honest)… he could use some new shirts, the old ones are starting to smell rank.” Vergil didn’t even know if she could even smell over the tobacco smoke, but he let her continue. It was now December, and he still couldn’t think of something. Anything he’d thought of had been either something Nero wasn’t interested in, banal, or his son had already had it. He was running out of time.

“You know,” Nicoletta offered, “you could always get one of my creations for him. I’m almost ready with a prototype that can-“

“You just wish for me to give you money” he pointed out the obvious. She may be an artist without peer, but she was an absolute shark when the scent of money was in the water. Almost as ruthless as Lady.

She sighed, her ulterior motives revealed, and took another puff. “Well, I dunno what to tell yah, V. I know that you want to give him somethin’ better than a pair of socks which,” she lit up yet another cigarette, “trust me, Nero would appreciate a good pair of socks. They ain’t got the pizazz as a new toolbox or something, but the feel of cozy dry feet after a day stuck in the muck is like a piece of heaven.”

Vergil had to agree with that. He had memories of that feeling, all those years ago when a person, (he couldn’t remember the face, an old woman, perhaps), had given him a pair of homemade knitted socks and a pair of used, but still in good condition shoes to replace the threadbare ones he’d been running in since the fire. (Part of him regretted that he had just swiped them from her, without thanks, and ran away, before hearing her offer of a warm meal, and the soft bed, would things have ended as they did?)

Nico continued, “Trust me, whatever you get him, he’ll be thrilled. He’s an easy guy to please, and especially when the gift comes from his daddy.”

As she stopped the van for a red light that she couldn’t avoid, Vergil looked out the window, onto the cold and slushy streets to see a parent and child, no more than ten years old, holding hands while the child pointed excitedly at a toy, a stuffed bear, on display. They spoke with each other, and after the parent nodded, the little one jumped up and down with excitement, before giving them a bone crushing hug. Vergil felt a pang of pain in his chest, a regret that, in his quest for power, he’d given up so many more important things. He’d never reclaim it, redeem himself, but if he could find one special thing to give to his son...perhaps he could try to be the father Nero deserved. And perhaps, there was one more person, someone who knew Nero better than anyone, that he could ask.

* * *

“Ah, Mr. Vergil!” Kyrie said as she opened the door in response to his curt knock, “I didn’t expect your arrival! Nero’s not here right now, he offered to take the boys out to the Christmas display this afternoon in the centre of town today, you could probably catch him if you head that wa-”

“I know,” Vergil answered, “that’s why I came here. I..” he tried to wrack his mind for a way to sound not threatening. After all, it had taken months for her to lower her guard around him, after she found out what his desperate and decayed form had done to her beloved. It was only Nero’s assurances last year that he’d keep both brothers in line that hid her stabbing glares hidden behind a calm and composed facade towards him. It had taken months of Nero slowly acclimatizing both her and Vergil, like two cats being introduced to each other, for both to feel comfortable in the same room.

“I wished to speak to you alone about Nero, regarding Christmas.” She cocked her eyebrow in confusion, “I needed the advice of one who knew him best.” The metaphorical light bulb went on in her eyes, and to his relief, she smiled. 

“Come in!” she opened the door more fully and beckoned him inside, to which he nodded in gratitude. “What do you like in your tea?”

*******

The smells of cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg brought back nostalgic memories Vergil thought long submerged as he gingerly sat down on the couch. From the kitchen, he could hear Kyrie’s quiet singing. Nero wasn’t exaggerating, her voice was truly entrancing. For a brief moment, Vergil felt he could cast aside his burden of constant vigilance, like he was a child back in his parents’ manor, decorating with his brother for the holiday. He heard the sound of an oven door open and close, and now the scent of apples overpowered everything. 

Kyrie walked back out of the kitchen, two cups of steaming tea in her hands, which he hurriedly took one from her, to reduce the chance of her burning herself. Traces of flour dusted her clothes.

“Sorry for the state I’m in, been busy baking while the boys are out, less chance for them begging for an early taste of the Christmas treats.” She apologised as she sat down on a couch facing him, “now… I’m going to guess you’re going to ask me about what Nero would like for Christmas.”

“It’s alright, I understand what it's like to fend off a relative’s impatience for a sweet,” Vergil replied, taking a sip of his tea. She had made it to perfection, he’d have to ask her where she got this blend from. He continued, “And yes, I wish to get him a gift, but with a week and a half to go, I’m running out of time to think of a suitable present. What does an absentee father give a son he’s only just found out about, for their first proper Christmas together?” The disparaging term he gave himself tumbled out, and for once, he didn’t regret it.

“Well,” she thought to herself, “I’m not trying to guilt trip you, but Nero’s childhood was quite threadbare, being brought up in the Orphanage and all, so he’s always been easy to please when it comes to gifts.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Vergil interjected, “but even so, I wish to give him a gift that goes above the usual superficial nonsense most gifts entail. I want…” he stared at his reflection in the porcelain cup, “something that tells him that while I cannot make up for my absence, I wish to give him something that assures him that no matter what, I shall be there for him in the future.”

“Hmmm, well” Kyrie mused as she sipped her tea, “…an item you created yourself, that would make that statement rather clear. If there was enough time, I would have been able to help you learn to knit something, like a pair of socks, or…” she bit her lip, “maybe something much more beginner friendly, like a scarf. But… there’s a little more than a week left, and there’s no time for me to teach you, let alone finish it.” She sighed in disappointment. “Maybe a locket or necklace, something he can carry around him at all times, so he’ll remember...no” she shook her head, “Nero’s never been much of a jewelry person….says it could be a safety hazard when he’s in the field.” A look of frustration grew on her face, something that looked very out of place on her usually cheerful face, but softened a bit when she looked at him, “I know that you really want to give something that he’ll cherish, Vergil, I see it with how you talk with him, how you try to get to know him. But Nero’s never been one for gifts, that’s just how he is as a person. After all his life as an orphan, he doesn’t put much stock in physical things”

Vergil sighed, defeated. “So...this will be the second Christmas that I will not have gotten him anything for the holiday.” Here he was, the Elder Son of Sparda...unable to provide his son the slightest joy this season. It was pathetic.   
Kyrie looked puzzled, “Second Christmas? Nero was so happy that you and Dante finally came back from Hell on Christmas Eve! It was better than any gift anyone, including myself, could give him. I know he was all grumpy when you showed up on our doorstep during the middle of the night, but you know by now how he hides his true feelings behind his brash personality. He told me how ecstatic that after all this time, he finally had ‘a dumbass uncle, and a weirdo dad’ as family.”

Vergil thought back to that day. In hindsight, she was telling the truth. Nero had given the impression that he was annoyed by his newfound family dropping by unannounced, but when he thought Vergil wasn’t looking, he had beamed, and once, he had almost caught his son wiping his eyes with a holiday napkin. And could he blame him? The child had wanted nothing more than to have a family… a father…

_ A father… _

With trembling hands, Vergil carefully set the cup down, before he dropped it. Suddenly, his mind opened up to a possibility, a gift that would mean something to the young man.

“Kyrie,” he spoke, hiding his true emotions as best as he could. “You have given me an idea, but I have a question for you.”

“Anything!” 

“Where is Fortuna’s Courthouse?”

* * *

A week later, the shrieks of children playing with their new toys as they chased each other around the house had finally died down with all three of them passed out, exhausted from all the hustle and bustle, and the copious amount of food (including Kyrie’s baking, Vergil understood why she had to hide it from the horde of grabby hands), and after Nero had picked up all three of the slumbering children to put them to bed, it was the adults turn to celebrate. Vergil felt a pang in his chest at the tenderness Nero showed to the boys, another thing he had missed out on. 

The boys’ energy astounded Vergil. All day, Carlo had been playing with his new set of cars, Kyle had been pestering his foster family to play yet another game of Uno, (which Vergil was surprisingly good at, breaking Dante’s winning streak.) And Julio...well the boy was indulging his passion; snapping tonnes of photos with his old Polaroid camera.

He sipped on his warm apple cider. Non-alcoholic, of course, he wasn’t going to be like his little brother’s last year and get uproariously drunk. (and it had nothing to do with him having little to no tolerance of it...not at all.) He’d allowed himself a glass of wine hours ago, any effects should have worn off by now. Right now, he needed to keep his wits sharp. Because the next few minutes needed him to remain calm and composed. 

“Here.” Nero plopped something down on his lap, refusing to make eye contact. “For you.” A wrapped gift sat in his lap, demanding to be opened. Vergil stared at it. How long had it been since he had unwrapped a present? Perhaps since the Christmas before the fire? He had almost forgotten how….

“Bro, the gift is INSIDE. You gotta take the paper off.” Dante punched his arm, earning a well deserved glare. 

“I know how to unwrap, Dante.” And slowly, he found the seam, before carefully pulling the paper, earning a muttered “Great, he’s one of THOSE people, can’t just rip the paper like normal people do?” from his son. He ignored it as the paper, like a snowman patterned flower, unfurled its petals. There in the center, was a navy blue leather notebook, his name embossed with gold lettering, with a matching pen attached to a loop on the spine. He flipped the blank pages, the scent of fresh paper wafting into his nose.    
“It-it was Kyrie’s idea…” Nero stammered, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I- I mean SHE noticed how much you like books, and figured you might like a nice book for you to write in…” Vergil looked at Kyrie, who’s smile and gentle roll of her eyes told him all he needed to know about WHO actually thought of the idea. 

His fingers slid across the cover, the snap that fastened it shut, and his name, and he smiled.

“Thank you, Nero.” 

His son muttered something a flustered “Your welcome,” before retreating back to the couch beside Kyrie, trying to hide the glowing bloom of red that covered his face.

Now it was Vergil’s turn to be nervous. Setting aside the book, (away from the grubby hands of his brother,) he took a couple steps towards the tree, and pulled out a perfectly wrapped thin present. Somehow everyone else in the room, from soft spoken Kyrie, to Lady and Dante, currently arguing about...something, (probably on how much he owed her for his Christmas present, the woman was ruthless,) seemed to sense the importance of what he held in his hands, and conversation ceased, all eyes on him. It was most disconcerting, to be the centre of attention.

“This is for you, Nero.” He prided himself on not trembling too much as the young man tentatively took the present, and had a flash of panic, worried that Nero would rip open the paper like the boys had done with their presents. Under no circumstances could his gift get damaged. Thankfully, Nero, with a puzzled, and slightly suspicious glance directed at him, found the seam, and carefully pulled back the tape and paper. 

There, in literal black and white, was a paper thick and high quality, with the Seal of Fortuna gracing as a header. Kyrie couldn’t help but lean over to see what Nero held, and everyone gathered around.

Nero’s jaw was slightly open. Was this a bad sign? Had he drank a little too much and was having trouble parsing the dry legal text? Worse, did he think this was a joke? Slowly, his blue eyes looked up at Vergil.

“This is a…”

“An adoption form,” Vergil hastily explained. “I know that adult adoption doesn’t have the same impact as a child adoption is, nor does it make up for the past..but I would...'' great, he was rambling, sounding like an idiot. He couldn't see his son’s eyes, they had snapped down to the paper again. No doubt his son thought he was being a jerk, fruitlessly pretending that he hadn’t been there the entire boy’s life. This had been a huge mistake. Nero was certainly enraged that his father had the gall to attempt to waltz back into his life, like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t ripped off his arm. His hand was on Yamato, ready to create a portal back to home, before the young man kicked him out of his house. 

But suddenly, without warning, Nero shot up. Vergil barely suppressed a flinch, thinking that his son would slap him.

But instead, to his surprise...he felt arms around him, holding him tight. It finally dawned on him... _ Nero was hugging him.  _ Nero had never embraced him before, aside from the group hug last Christmas. Vergil never asked for one, didn’t believe he deserved one, nor did Nero offer one, until today. It took another moment or two for his muscles to finally unfreeze, and with careful slowness, his arms wrapped around Nero’s torso, not too tightly, giving the young man ample opportunity to back off, if he felt threatened.

“You goddamn idiot,” He heard Nero murmuring into his shoulder, and there was a blooming warm wetness where the boy’s face was pressed up against his vest. Vergil momentarily panicked, trying to figure if his tone was angry, or being sarcastic, “For my whole life...since I was a little kid, I just wanted to have a family...just wanted someone to fill out that damn form. But nobody did, nobody wanted to. And now…” and now Vergil could feel the tension in his son’s body as he tried to restrain sobs that fought to erupt. “I can finally….finally get the family I always wanted, and despite how weird they are...I’ve got blood relations... _ that want me as part of their family. _ ”

Carefully, Vergil stroked his son’s back, unable to say anything, in fear of ruining the moment (and not because he might break out in tears as well...that was a ridiculous idea). That was the trigger, and the dam broke, and the shakes turned into full blown sobs, and Nero, no  _ his son,  _ just started bawling. Ordinarily, Vergil would have been irritated, or at the very least uncomfortable around an emotional outburst like this, but this time...perhaps it was the earlier glass of wine, or maybe there was too much ginger and cinnamon in the air, but his vision clouded and when he closed his eyes, a small trickle of tears dribbled out, as he held Nero even tighter. 

“You know…” Nero joked, between heaving breaths, “I was kinda hoping for socks.”   
Vergil let out a little chuckle, “I apologize for the disappointment, I’ll keep it in mind for next Christmas.”   
And from the top stairs, Vergil heard the familiar snap of a camera, and the quiet giggle of Julio from the top of the stairs, as the moment was immortalized.

**Author's Note:**

> This is directly inspired to a Tumblr post that for the life of me, I cannot find, that Vergil gives Nero an adoption form as a Christmas present. If you know where to find it, feel free to message me so I can give direct credit.
> 
> Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones!


End file.
